The Candle Candle, candle, glimmering bright, like crimson leaves, a shining light, colors illuminating autumn’s night. Wax as white as winter snow drips like raindrops from the sky down the face of a glowing candle, its smooth surface disappearing, melting, creating puddles on the mantel. Flame flickering, dancing swift as a fox’s tail, gleaming, glinting in the light of the shadowed moon that spills through the pane of a glassy window. Candle, candle, glimmering bright, like crimson leaves, a shining light, colors illuminating autumn’s night, shifting, twirling ever so slight.